Honor Through Dishonor
by iSmileWheniSeeYou
Summary: Without honor, Xaldin was nothing. : Written in honor of 3-1 Day :


**Author's Note: ****_I come forth bearing plot hole-filled fanfiction!  
This is mainly a cheap head canon fic of how Xemnas may have convinced Xaldin to follow through with the whole stealing hearts deal. _**

**_I feel as if Xaldin may have needed a bit more persuasion in order for him to follow through, and since he was a guard that swore to protect the Castle, I figured honor was fairly important to him, if not the most important. _**

**_The timeframe is about a month or so in to the Organization's founding. Everyone's a fresh Nobody, so they're still struggling to get their mind around everything. At least Xaldin is.  
So, hopefully, you find this enjoyable. It's a bit rushed, but let's ignore that~_**

Dilan had always been an honorable man. He was raised to believe honor was everything. It was what kept the thin line between right and wrong distinct. Gray areas didn't exist when this moral code was in place. Black and white was all there was. Teetering the line could only result in stumbling and falling onto one of the sides. A 50/50 chance that held more consequences than it did benefits.

Of course, that's what /Dilan/ had believed. His strong willed heart made no room for accommodations such as a swaying sense of honor. Things had to be set in stone- stoic, much like himself.

"We can not just go around collecting the hearts of innocent bystanders, Xehanh- ahem, Xemnas," Xaldin corrected himself, tone firm. It reminded him of the way Dilan admonished Braig when he came back to the Castle with a bloody eye socket. That was around the time everything went downhill…

Xemnas' indifferent gaze burrowed into the man's skull. Xaldin took the chance to scrutinize the honey golden hues, looking for a hint of understanding or realization. Something that would at least give him a sliver of hope. Hope that he could keep a shred of his honor intact… but the orbs held nothing but an aloof ocean.

"No. III, you will address me as "Superior"," Xemnas reminded him in a baritone drawl before placing a hand on Xaldin's shoulder. The lancer wasn't sure if it was out of comfort or intimidation. The latter seemed to be the more reasonable answer, though. "And, we must. There is no ultimatum here."

The dreadlocked man clenched his jaw at the comment- the bone so stiff, he could sharpen his lances on it.

"That's a ridiculous statement. There must be an alternative," he snorted disbelievingly, eyebrows pushed together in doubt. To say a situation only held one true answer was a fallacy. It was a false dilemma, which contained no logic in Xaldin's mind.

"Are you insinuating I am lying, III?" His tone changed. Xaldin had caught the teasing challenge that peeked out. This was the first time since their state of being, or rather, non-being, he had heard the man's pitch alter even the slightest. The difference left him tense and far more mindful of the next words he chose to say.

"No…," he answered slowly, "I'm simply stating that there must be other options."

The Superior's cold look studied him. He was always studying him- studying all of the six apprentices. It was as if he was searching for something. Not just externally, but internally, as well.

There was a long unnerving pause before an abrupt smile tugged at Xemnas' lips. His eyes reverted back to their same absentminded look, making the curve of his mouth all the more haunting.

The hand that rested on his shoulder slid up under his chin before attaching itself to his jawline on either side. The hold was not constraining, but it was secure. No. I maneuvered his face closer to his cohort.

Four inches. Three inches. Two inches.

Then he stopped.

"The strength of the human heart is vast, Xaldin," he began, warm breath flush against his face, "It's strong will to do what is seen as good. Upright… **Honorable**- is fascinating.

An intriguing war takes place in the heart, my friend. A battle between light and dark," he spoke with eloquence- angelic ecstasy. The words flowed from his mouth like water upon the rocks. But, Xaldin realized the waterfall was up ahead, and he knew the next words would send him over the rapids.

"We, as Nobodies, are not privileged this war, however. For we do not possess the heart for such to occur. With out a heart… we are nothing," the white-haired man's penetrating stare resurfaced. It tore through Xaldin's stalwart features. It observed the fury of winds now raging within him. Xemnas took a satisfying note of the rage.

"Mercy, justice, and honor are entitlements only the existing are gifted. Gaining back these allowances can only be done one way."

His honor could only be granted back through a dishonorable way…  
Xaldin's eyes widened, and he suddenly latched his hand on the Superior's, prying his fingers underneath Xemnas' ever tightening grip. He wished to hear no more. He could not stain his hands again.

Without much fight, Xemnas released his grip and stepped back. He was calm and collected, unlike the wind wielder, whom was flaring his nostrils and taking on a defensive stance. The small grin fell back upon Xemnas' features as he watched the process of his subordinate's artificial emotions.

"You do wish to have your honor back, correct? Wasn't it what you valued most- staying loyal and true? I vaguely recall you telling me your family's mantra was "Without honor, a man is nothing." Don't you wish to be that man you once were again," he pushed, coaxing the lancer more with each persuasive word.

Despite his relentless notions that he still had a sense of honor, Xemnas' words rang true in his mind. How could one who no longer held a heart still have a sense of right and wrong- something which his moral code depended on? He was nothing without it, it was true. He needed his heart back…

With that, Xaldin's mind barrier had fallen, and the lie had been fed.

"Excellent," Xemnas nodded at his fellow comrade's silent realization, "I'm pleased to see we are now on the same page."

Xaldin said nothing in return. He said nothing as Xemnas took his leave, and he said nothing as the overwhelming sense of shame weighed in his chest at his choice. Words could not expressed what he wished to feel. To do. He had let his family down. His values down. Himself down. There was only one way to atone for his mistakes. Honor needed to be regained, even if it was through the sacrifice of the innocent…


End file.
